


metamorphosis

by alongthewatchtower



Series: pretty [5]
Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Crying, Frottage, M/M, Nipple Play, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:19:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4659405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alongthewatchtower/pseuds/alongthewatchtower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach vows to never be like his parents. Watching his alpha laugh, completely at ease in the dull suburbia of Zach's childhood makes his chest go all warm, still amazed at his good fortune.</p><p>The Zach who left for Isla Nublar a week ago isn't the same Zach who returned, Owen by his side. He's not sure who this new Zach is yet, but he's working on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stop writing omega!zach.
> 
> edit: I accidentally forgot to make this a part of the series. now fixed!

 

 

Owen Grady looks completely at ease in suburbia.

 

It’s bizarre, Owen in comfortably worn-in jeans that cling to strong thighs, a leather jacket his only concession to the cold that has Zach burying his face into his scarf. Of course, Owen in a long-sleeved henley and a leather jacket is a pretty damn impressive sight, especially once he removes his jacket and everyone can see the way the henley clings to broad shoulders and defined arms. Tall, broad, and so very handsome, he’s the epitome of every vain fantasy Zach ever had about his dream alpha, and there’s something about the sight of him that makes Zach’s omega hindbrain go over all lazy and smug, a big bowl of _look-what-I-got,_  with a side of _look-who-loves-me_.

 

Owen looks completely at home in the sprawling supermarket, impossibly tan under fluorescent lights as he laughs, cheery and loud, giving Gray a boost up so he can reach something off the top shelf. They’d only been home the minutes before Zach had felt the need to escape the house, had muttered something about snacks and tugged Owen to the door, Gray hurrying to find his coat so he could join them. The chilly silences that were the norm in their house before Zach and Gray went on vacation are now long, drawn-out arguments between his parents, passive-aggressive sniping that makes Gray silent and Zach uncomfortable.

 

The contrast between his parents’ bitterness and Zach’s own happiness is telling. Zach looks at his parents and wonders, wonders because surely if this is what they’ve become, they never felt what he feels for Owen, this tremendous sense of _right_ , like he used to only be half but is now part of a whole, together and complete, forever. Both his parents are betas, but they surely loved one another once, right? Their biological instincts are a bit less intense, and they don’t experience the longing for their true mate, the one person in all the world just for them, the way most alphas and omegas do; but betas can fall in love and marry too. They had to have been in love once, even if they aren’t now.

 

Zach vows to never be like his parents. 

 

*

 

Zach’s bedroom door is barely shut behind them, shutting Gray and his parents and the world out, before Zach launches himself at his alpha. Owen catches him about the waist, holding him close and tight, surrounding him with in a strong hold that smells like safety.

 

“Hey,” Owen soothes, his tone similar to when he’s talking to his raptors, low and gentle. “Hey, it’s okay."

 

Owen walks Zach backwards until the bed brushes against Zach’s thighs, and with a gentle push, Zach finds himself sprawled over his bed. “There you go,” Owen says, climbing on the bed and crowding in close, settling in between the vee of Zach’s legs and pressing their chests together, propping himself up on his elbows so he’s not crushing Zach, but still boxing him in, holding him still, surrounding him with the scent of mate.

 

All the built-up tension Zach’s been holding seems to just drain away as he goes lax, omega hindbrain convinced he’s safe, that nothing can get him here.

 

He promptly bursts into tears.

 

“Oh fuck,” Owen says, and Zach flinches. He’s never thought of himself as the kind of person to just cry at the smallest little thing, and oh gods, what must his alpha think of him now -

 

Owen shifts, moving away slightly, and Zach can’t help himself, reaches out and clings and _sobs_ , even as Owen is shifting them around so he’s on his back, so Zach is draped across his chest, held close by Owen’s strong arms.

 

“Shhh,” he says. “It’s okay, pretty. Let it out. I’m not going anywhere."

 

The sobs are great, heaving, ugly things, the kind that make Zach’s face hot and leave him gasping for breath, overwhelming as he buries his face in Owen’s shirt.

 

“You’re okay, babe,” Owen says. “I’m here, and I love you. You’re safe."

 

It occurs to Zach that Owen is taking this rather well, his dumb little omega completely breaking down after a day of traveling with his parents. When he manages to say as much, though, Owen sighs.

 

“You’re not dumb. I was waiting for it, Zach."

 

“Y’were _waiting_ for me to completely fall apart and snot all over you?"

 

“Yes,” Owen admits. “You’ve been through a lot in the last week, Zach. I knew it was gonna catch up with you eventually."

 

“You’ve been through a lot too,” Zach says sullenly, tears slipping down his face still, even as his breathing evens out.

 

Owen shifts awkwardly under Zach’s weight, suddenly tense. “It’s not - I can’t talk about - I’ve done stuff,” he says eventually. “Stuff that means I’ve had years of practice at being cool and calm even when I’m terrified, practice at letting it go after."

 

“So it doesn’t affect you anymore?” Zach’s imagination is running wild with the thought of his alpha in far-flung places, facing danger in jungles and deserts and places too far away from Zach.

 

“I was _terrified_  from the moment I met you,” Owen says, with a little huff of laughter. “Terrified, because the Indominus meant _you_  were in danger. It’s all I could think about."

 

“But you didn’t fall apart after.” Not that Zach remembers, and they’d spent pretty much every moment together after they met, from that first night at the hotel when Gray crawled in with them to sleep, to this morning when they touched down in Chicago.

 

“Oh, I had a little mini-breakdown of my own in the shower that night,” Owen admits easily. “Shakes, manly tears, the whole works."

 

“That’s - I couldn’t tell."

 

“Well, I couldn’t let my future-mate see, now, could I? Honestly, I think I was just so relieved to see you it didn’t matter anymore. That, and I was about to eat a burger the size of my head."

 

Zach laughs. “They were pretty good burgers."

 

There’s a moment of silence after that, but it’s comfortable, Zach’s cheek pressed against Owen’s chest, strong fingers rubbing little circles into his back. Zach doesn’t know whether it’s biology or just the fact that Zach has never met someone like Owen, but he’s never felt as safe, as content as he is now, lying with Owen.

 

He shifts so he can look his alpha in the eye. “What if we head to your parents’ a few days early?” They’d planned to head out to Montana for a couple of days after Christmas to say hi before heading back to Isla Nublar.

 

Owen looks surprised, obviously not expecting that from him. “Look,” Zach continues, “it’s obviously not going to be a great time here. My parents have their own problems going on, Gray’s still coming to terms with the fact that I’ll be leaving soon - what if we go to Montana for Christmas and take Gray? If that wouldn’t be a problem, of course."

 

“My folks’ll never let Gray leave,” Owen says, visibly excited by the idea. He’s so _open_ , letting Zach see his every thought play across his face. “He’ll love it. _You’ll_  love it. I’ll have to introduce you to my childhood bed. Maybe repeatedly."

 

Zach flushes, still unused to the idea that he’s having sex _on the regular_  now.

 

“That’s if they say yes,” he remembers, after a moment. “Not about me, I obviously don’t need their permission anymore, but I don’t want to leave Gray here by himself."

 

“Not on Christmas,” Owen says, and his ready acceptance of Zach’s idea makes something in his chest go pleasantly warm. Owen’s been nothing but incredibly supportive. Meet future-mate’s parents? No problem. Stand steadfast in the face of said parents’ interrogation and accusations, a constant presence at Zach’s back, spirit him away when Zach asks, mate him properly? Owen’s pleasure. Fly back to Zach’s hometown for a few days with sniping parents? Bring it on.

 

Zach is pretty much the luckiest omega in the world.

 

“I should go ask them,” he says. “Flights’ll be a bitch to find, so the sooner the better."

 

“I get to tell Gray, right?” Zach’s big doofus of an alpha is ridiculously excited about being the bearer of good news.

 

Zach laughs. “Sure.” He goes to sit up, only to be tugged back down. Owen meets him halfway, mouth hot against his own, a sweeping, claiming kiss that leaves Zach breathless. Yeah, he’s never getting used to that. Owen looks smug when they break for air. Zach pinches his nipple in retaliation and darts away, throwing his bedroom door open and heading down the stairs.

 

The mood in the kitchen is decidedly less cheerful. His Mom raises her voice, and his Dad is mean, but Zach clenches his jaw and resolutely keeps his voice calm. Of _course_  Owen’s not trying to take Gray from them, Owen’s not like that.

 

“It was my idea!” Zach says finally. “I don’t want to be in this house anymore. Neither does Gray. It feels… toxic. Right now I want to leave this house and never come back. I think Gray wants to pack himself into my luggage!” He sighs. “Look, I think you guys need some more time to figure out your separation.  Us staying here to be pawns in your tug-of-war isn’t helping _anybody_."

 

His Dad opens his mouth, probably to have another jab about how oh, Zach’s a relationship _expert_  now he’s got an alpha, but all three of them are hushed by the sound of Gray’s steps bounding down the stairs.

 

“Can I go?” Gray’s practically _vibrating_  with excitement, the first real show of emotion from him in days. “Can I go with Zach?"

 

“I don’t know," his Mom starts, but his Dad sighs.

 

“Let him go,” he says, quiet. He sounds - old. Defeated, in a way Zach’s never heard.

 

*

 

“Travel over Christmas is ridiculous,” Zach says, when Owen comes upstairs. He’s across like every airline with a million tabs open on his laptop, but he’s not making a lot of progress. Every single available ticket is hella expensive, and Owen’s already flown a bazillion miles for Zach, not even blinking at the cost, he’s not just going to pile on more.

 

Owen slides in behind him, cradling Zach in the vee of his legs as he leans back against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed.

 

“These are the best available,” Zach says, warmth curling through his belly as Owen snugs up against his back, chin on Zach’s shoulder so he can see where he’s pointing. “And they’re so - what are you doing?” Owen seems to be doing some kind of interpretive dance behind him.

 

“Here,” Owen says, dropping his wallet in Zach’s lap. “Just book them, and we’ll go."

 

“They’re really expensive,” Zach says, unsure. His fingers trace the leather of Owen’s wallet - sturdy, good quality, obviously cared for.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Owen says, flipping the wallet open and pulling out a card. “Taking my omega out to big sky country for the first time? Priceless."

 

Zach laughs, and picks up the card. Owen seems to content himself by wrapping his arms around Zach and rubbing his thumbs back and forth on Zach’s belly while he sorts the details, finally sending the e-tickets to his printer and leaning back into Owen with a sigh. They sit like that for a moment, quiet and comfortable.

 

“I guess we should have the money conversation at some point, huh,” Owen says eventually, tightening his arms around Zach’s middle.

 

“I’ve got a fund,” Zach says quickly. “And I haven't applied to college or anything like that, so it was always just a future-fund."

 

“Good,” Owen says, kissing his ear. “I like the idea that you have money of your own. So if you want to get a job on the island - or hell, even on the mainland, the ferries come often enough to make that feasible - you’ve got your own account, you’re independent like that."

 

“I want to contribute,” Zach says, stubborn.

 

“Okay,” Owen agrees. “But don’t just sign everything over, alright? We can split things. The house was built by Masrani Corp when I moved out to the island, I’ve - _we’ve_  got a ten-year lease with eight to go that says we don’t have to pay a cent for it. But if you don’t like it, if we need more room, we can expand, or look at one of the other staff properties."

 

“I love the lake,” Zach says, keeping his voice mild. “And you’d hate living in an apartment complex."

 

Owen laughs, the rumble of it comforting against Zach’s back. “Yeah, I would.” He nips at Zach’s earlobe with his teeth - what’s his fascination with Zach’s ears?! - and it makes him shiver. “But I’d move if you wanted to, pretty."

 

“I don’t,” Zach says firmly.

 

“Okay then. Settled.” Owen leans back further into the pillows, taking Zach with them so they’re stretched out more instead of leaning over Zach’s laptop. “It’s weird talking about money. But I had nearly ten years of hazard pay in the Navy, and I get paid a stupidly large amount to be raptor alpha."

 

Zach snorts. “Yes, because I’m sure 'raptor alpha’ isn’t listed as a hazardous job _at all_."

 

“Shuddup,” Owen says, playful, and plants a smacking kiss on Zach’s neck. “My girls are total pushovers, and you know it.” That’s a lie, and they both know it, but the placement of the next kiss makes Zach shiver, and at Owen’s laugh, he arches, grinding his ass back. “Oh, so that’s how you want to play it, huh?"

 

Zach abruptly finds himself on his back, hands pinned above his head. He narrows his eyes and locks his ankles behind Owen’s back, arching up and rubbing himself against his alpha like he’s in heat, sliding their dicks together and delighting in the friction even through two layers of denim, cock hard and weeping in his pants. It takes _nothing_  to get him hot and ready these days, his pants going tight at the smallest things, the way Owen looks when he smirks, the way Owen's muscles shift when he reaches for something, the way Owen's voice goes low and rough when he sees something he likes. Actually, pretty much everything that gets Zach hot and ready is Owen-related.

 

“Fuck,” Owen manages.

 

“That was the general idea,” Zach says, with a coy smile, eyes fluttering shut as Owen rubs against him.

 

“No,” Owen says, “you’re going to come like this. Right here, in your pants like the teenager you are, rubbing off on me.” He grinds himself down, the heat of alpha cock tangible through their jeans. Damned if Owen isn’t right, the friction hard and _perfect_ , making Zach’s blood sing, can he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge as his alpha smirks down at him.

 

He leans down and nuzzles at Zach’s neck, and there’s the sharp sting of teeth at his scent gland, so close to the place where Owen set his teeth and made Zach his own, the bite still tender and new, and the sensation makes Zach’s vision go grey as he orgasms, whining and arching up against his alpha.

 

“Damn, pretty,” Owen says, voice low and rough, and Zach opens his eyes to see Owen sitting back on his knees, jeans open and cock in hand.

 

Zach makes a noise in the back of his throat that’s _not_  a whimper, thankyou very much. He gets his elbows underneath him, eyes fixed on the ruddy head of Owen’s dick as it appears and disappears between Owen’s fingers as he jacks himself. He twists around until he’s on his belly, face pressed close to where his alpha’s scent is the strongest, feeling Owen’s fingers brush against his cheek on every downstroke.

 

Zach shoves Owen’s hand away. “Mine,” he says, right before he opens his mouth over his alpha’s cock.

 

Zach is relatively new to the whole cocksucking thing. As in, was a complete _virgin_ five days ago. He’s obviously picking up the skill quickly, though, if the groan Owen makes when Zach sucks at the head of his dick is any indication.

 

“Fuck,” Owen says.

 

“Not this time,” Zach says, pulling off Owen’s cock so he can lick his way down the length, tongue tracing a vein below hot, fragile skin, “this time you’re going to fuck my mouth."

 

Owen snarls at that, the kind of sound that sends a thrill up Zach’s spine, and he feels his hole clench, cunt slick and ready even as he takes Owen into his mouth again, swallowing gently as he works his alpha’s dick into his throat. He’s surrounded by the scent and the sound of his alpha, eyes closed and world narrowed to the feeling of cock against his tongue as he bobs up and down and listens to the soft grunts from above him. He moans when Owen’s hand brushes against his hair, gentle where he wants firm pressure, and Owen must get the message because he winds his fingers through Zach’s hair and _tugs_.

 

Zach rewards his clever alpha by sucking harder, one hand rolling Owen’s balls in between gentle fingers, feeling the way they’re tight and high under the attention as his other hand circles the base, the skin damp with saliva where Owen’s knot would form if he was locked inside Zach.

 

“Zach,” Owen says desperately. “Zach, I’m going to come-"

 

It’s a warning, his alpha being considerate, but it’s not what Zach wants. He forces himself lower, swallowing around the length that’s in his throat now, so deep it’s a part of Zach, and he feels Owen jerk against his tongue, dick spasming in little movements as Zach tries to open his throat wider, to make his mouth a perfect hole for Owen to fuck his way into.

 

Owen thrusts in and comes, hot and endless down Zach’s throat, gasping praise falling from his lips as he cradles Zach’s head in shaking hands, a litany of sweet words that are no less heartfelt just because they’re spoken as Zach himself hums around his alpha’s spurting cock.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

It’s only after they’ve survived the nightmare that is O’Hare International Airport during holiday season - for the second time in two days, even. It’s not until an excitable Gray has been settled in his seat with headphones and Owen’s tablet and its selection of baby velociraptor videos, until their tray tables are down and they’re well and truly at cruising altitude that Zach is struck by a sudden, horrifying realisation.

 

“We’re going to your parents’ for _Christmas,”_  he blurts, and Owen takes one look at his expression and chuckles. He lifts their joined hands from the armrest and gives Zach’s a kiss.

 

“They’re going to love you,” he says.

 

“Not if I turn up _without_   _presents_ ,” Zach says, trying not to panic at 30,000 feet. 

 

“You’re bringing Gray,” Owen says, voice light and completely innocent, and Zach shoots him a dirty look. He laughs again. “Don’t worry about it. Christmas is pretty simple. I bought for Momma and Daddy and Cammie and Sam months ago, had stuff shipped there so I didn’t have to fly with it. I got another three names assigned and took care of them as well. This year I’m actually coming _home_  for Christmas, mated and with a pup besides. They’ll be so damn excited, it’ll be the best present they could ever want."

 

“Assigned?” Zach says weakly. Just how big _is_  Owen’s family?

 

“Well yeah,” Owen says, sounding sheepish. “There’s a chart, and you buy for three people outside your immediate family. That way everyone gets a present, even the relatives nobody likes, and you’re not buying for the same person every year."

 

“How many relatives do you _have_?” 

 

“Lots,” Owen says, rubbing a hand over his stubble. “We’re a pretty close family. Everyone comes out to the homestead for Big holidays, that kind of thing."

 

“I’m going to have to learn _so many names_ , aren’t I?"

 

“So many,” Owen confirms, settling his arm around Zach’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his hair.

 

Zach sighs, and settles more comfortably, resting his head against Owen’s shoulder. There’s an innate strength to Owen that’s so very reassuring. Like no matter what the future brings, Zach will be okay, because they’ll face it together.

 

*

 

Great Falls International Airport is busy the way all airports are two days before Christmas. They wait an hour for their luggage, Gray visibly drooping on the baggage cart by the time Owen finally retrieves their bags for him to sit on. Zach realises with horror that they still have to brave the rental counter, and Owen snakes an arm around his waist, pulling him close and letting him bask in that comforting, protective scent.

 

“What’s wrong, pretty?"

 

“I should’ve been organising a car while we were waiting,” he says. “You said we have to drive, right?"

 

“Naw,” Owen says. “Got that sorted. Look for an alpha like me, but less handsome, on our way out the terminal. M’brother Ash is picking us up."

 

“Someone’s been waiting for us all this time?” Zach asks, horrified. _Way_  to make a first impression.

 

“He flew in about the same time,” Owen soothes, as they start to head for the main concourse, Gray riding on the luggage cart while Zach tucks himself in behind Owen and follows his mate closely, Owen cutting through the crowd easily. “He’ll have snagged a rental already, no problems. In fact,” Owen says, “That looks like the big lout right there."

 

When Zach follows his gaze, he recognises Owen in the tall Alpha in some kind of military uniform, leaning against the wall of a shuttered coffee shop, duffle at his feet. They’re about ten feet away when the Alpha’s head snaps up, and he grins at them. 

 

“Dino man!”

 

“Rotor brat!"

 

Owen’s quick to dart forward into the man’s bear hug, and Zach and Grey watch the two brothers curiously.

 

“You just had to go and get y’self mated, didn’t you,” Ash says, with a grin over Owen’s shoulder. “Guess you win best present this year.” 

 

Zach flushes at the thought of being anyone’s best _anything_ ; part embarrassment, part terror. He really, really hopes Owen’s family approves.

 

*

It’s a good hour’s drive, past the city limits and far out into sprawling farmland. Night has long fallen by the time they pull onto a long gravel road, Ash parking the rental in a long line of cars in the shadow of a giant house. Zach stares. The house is old, a sprawling two-storey farmhouse that branches out on both sides from the main jut of the house, a wide porch cheerily lit, a few lights on here and there despite the fact it’s so late.

 

As they climb out of the rented SUV, Gray with eyes bright and overtired, clearly drooping but fighting it with every step, a man appears on the porch, the spitting image of Ashton Grady, only twenty to thirty years older. There's hugs and handshakes and Everett Grady seems delighted by both Zach and Gray, but Zach is most nervous about what's to come. When Owen talks about his family, he lights up, and everything is  _Momma_ this and  _Momma_ that, the respect and love for his omega mother clear in his tone. Zach has a lot to live up to. He also has a long way to go, he's sure, before he's someone Owen Grady's Momma will approve of.

 

They troop into the warm, cavernous kitchen, where something smells delicious, and there’s a woman, clearly Owen’s mother, standing with her hands on her hips. Zach tries not to shrink back too visibly.

 

“Owen Grady, did you go and get yourself mated without telling your Momma?"

 

“Yes’m,” Owen says, accent thickening, tone lazy and smug and somehow completely innocent, butter-wouldn’t-melt. “This here is my Zach. And his little brother, Gray."

 

“I hope it’s okay,” Zach says, trying not to shift nervously under the gaze of his new mother-in-law. “Us just dropping in like this for Christmas."

 

“Of course it’s okay,” Belle Grady says, holding out her hands. “C’mere, let me have a look at you.”

 

Zach steps forward and takes her hands, pleasantly surprised when he’s tugged into a welcoming hug. Owen’s Momma smells like _family_  and _home_ , the warm scent of an omega well-past birthing years, comforting and safe. Zach’s family aren’t particularly tactile, though Gray’s always keen to curl close, and right now, in this warm kitchen several thousand miles away from the cold of his childhood home, he never wants to leave.

 

“Where’d he find you, hmmm?” Belle asks, pulling back to hold him at arms’ length. She brushes a gentle finger over the scrape on his cheek, studying him intently.

 

“Running for my life, ma’am,” Zach says honestly. “Ran right into him."

 

“Swooned like a romance movie,” Gray puts in. “Then Owen turns around shoots a pterodactyl right out of the sky so it fell down and demolished a Starbucks, then we got to meet Owen’s pack, who totally saved _everyone!_ "

 

Okay, so Gray’s exhausted and a little punchy and about three hours too tired for remembering to _stick to the cover story_.

 

“Eco-terrorists, hmm?” Belle says, raising an eyebrow at Owen.

 

“Oops,” Gray says.

 

“S’okay kiddo,” Owen says, scooping Gray up and holding him against his hip, even though Gray’s far too big for it. “That cover story has like a million holes in it.” Gray settles, curling into Owen’s chest, and Zach can’t help but smile at the trust there. Gray’s as nervous about meeting new family as Zach is, but here he is in a room full of strangers, comfortable enough to be babied and just relax into the familiar safety of Owen’s scent, suddenly drowsing, cheek pressed to Owen’s shoulder.

 

“Why don’t you get Gray settled in Ashton’s old room,” Belle says, and it’s an order, not a request. “I’ll fix you up some supper. Zach, you can supervise."

 

“Yes Ma’am,” he replies, slightly nervous. He got okay marks in Home Ec class, but Belle Grady’s kitchen is giant and gleaming, wide wooden counters and three - _three_  - ovens. He’s distracted by the arm that comes around his shoulders, steering him further into the kitchen.

 

“None of that,” Belle says, mock-stern. “You call me Momma."

 


	3. Chapter 3

Owen’s dreamed of this.

 

One day, he hoped that he’d bring a mate home, that his Momma would approve and his Daddy would beam. He’d settled a sleepy Gray down in Ash’s childhood bedroom, directly across the hall from where he and Zach will be, and that’s a thought he can’t pay much attention to, because he has to go down and face his parents.

 

When he makes his way back downstairs, his little mate is telling his Momma about Owen’s raptors, and he pauses for a moment, unwilling to break into the scene beyond. Zach, who was so very nervous about coming here, was terrified he’d never measure up, as if Owen is going to judge him on the fact he’s not a subservient little houseomega and find him wanting - Zach is confident and happy as he talks about Owen’s girls, assembling truly epic sandwiches and laughing with Owen’s Momma.

 

Owen hears the floorboard behind him creak, scents his father behind him.

 

“Your mate was a surprise,” his Daddy says, voice low and even.

 

“You’re telling me,” Owen admits. “I mean, I’d felt the longing, but I never thought - I thought I was done. I mean, I moved to an island in the middle of nowhere to raise dinosaurs - what’s the chances I’m gonna meet my mate there? And then shit goes sideways in ways I’m not allowed to talk about, and there’s this kid - this gorgeous young omega running for his life and trying to protect his pup of a brother, and he just - smacks into me. And the whole time I’m trying to fix the situation, when I take the girls out and we end it - the whole time, all I’m thinking of is that now I have someone to come home _to_ , if he’ll let me."

 

“You hold on to that feeling,” Everett says, hand on Owen’s shoulder, watching Owen watch his Momma and his mate laugh about something. “On good days and bad and everything in between, you never forget that you were lucky enough that an omega chose you for mate. You do everything you can to make him happy."

 

“I will,” Owen vows.

 

Zach’s smile is bright when Owen comes fully into the kitchen, when he catches sight of his Alpha. “Grey asleep?"

 

“Down for the count,” Owen confirms, standing so his mate is gently pinned between his body and the kitchen island, reaching out to steal a pickle from one of the sandwich masterpieces before him.

 

“Hey!” Zach says, and raps him across the knuckles.

 

Across the kitchen, his Momma laughs. “That’s right, Zach. Don’t you be letting him get away with _anything_ , now."

 

“I won’t, Momma,” Zach says, and Owen nuzzles in at his mate’s neck where the scent is strongest, chastised.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Christmas morning in the Grady household is bedlam. 

 

There’s bleary-eyed relatives in line for the coffeepot, small children darting in and out of the kitchen, and Zach finds himself pressed into service on toast-buttering duty, seated at the breakfast bar. There’s a sleepy toddler perched on his lap, gumming at a crust, and across the room, Owen is chopping tomatoes under the watchful eye of his Momma. The whole kitchen is filled with a warm, happy bustle, too many people and not enough space but enough good cheer to dissipate the innate grumpiness of the hour.

 

The first excited shrieks had echoed through the house at just past five am, and assorted Grady family members had convened in the main living room, filled to bursting with relatives and significant others, Owen leaning against a windowsill with Zach yawning into one shoulder and a sleepy Gray cuddled up to the other. Presents were opened and marvelled over, too many names exchanged for Zach to keep track, and then it was breakfast time. Food is served buffet-style, and Owen fills a plate and delivers it to Zach with a kiss to his temple, before he goes to make sure Gray is taken care of. Zach shifts the toddler, now asleep, and picks at his food - too early, too fucking early, and watches generations of the Grady family interact. Everett sidles up behind his wife, the force of nature that is _Momma_ , the omega who’s been so welcoming to the young mate and sibling-pup who followed her son home. Belle Grady swats her husband with a spoon, laughing as he dips her in a kiss. A blink, and the image of the two is overlaid with an Owen forty years older; the Alpha nuzzling into Zach’s hair in a house full of family.  It’s a future Zach knows is possible now, newly mated and confident, in his strong, kind mate - and in himself. He’s going to fly back to an island paradise (complete with dinosaurs) and carve out a life for himself with his Alpha. Anything is possible now.

 

*

 

It’s just gone nine am when Owen finally tumbles his little mate back into bed. Gray is occupied with the younger cousins out back by the creek - the amateur naturalist proving a hit with the extended Grady family. The breakfast dishes are done and the family has split off into various rooms, his Momma holding court on the back porch with the latest afghan-in-progress over her lap. Stashed in Owen’s bag is one of his Momma’s finest, the spare she keeps in the linen closet in case of matings or new babies, hand-knitted and gorgeous, dark grey wool shot through with cream, an intricate tale of hours spent on the end of Momma’s needles. He’ll wait until they get home - and isn’t it a trip that he’s a _they_  now, Zach is coming back with him, _they’re_ going to make a home together - before he brings it out.

 

The thought brings a sappy smile to his face, and Owen stops, gazing down at Zach, flat on his back in Owen’s childhood bed, boxed in by Owen’s arms. A flush crawls up the omega’s pale neck under Owen’s regard, and he shifts, but he can’t move far, not with Owen cradled in tight between his thighs.

 

“What?” Zach is squirming, now.

 

“Just takin' a moment,” Owen says, his smile stretching his accent out like saltwater taffy, slow and syrupy. “How’d I get so lucky?” He asks himself, voice a murmur.

 

Zach’s blush deepens.

 

“My perfect little mate, comin' home to charm my Momma, smilin’ at my Daddy so he gives me the ‘you-be-good-to-him-now’ talk, cuddlin’ babies and rememberin’ how many sugars Aunt Lavvie has in her tea."

 

“I did good, huh?”

 

Owen’s going to spend the rest of his life putting that pleased little smile on his omega’s face. “ _So_  good,” he says, ducking his head to kiss his way down the line of that blush. When he reaches the collar of Zach’s henley - _his_  henley, actually, too-big on Zach’s smaller frame and offering tantalising glimpses of a pale collarbone all day - he reaches down to ruck up the hem, dragging it over Zach’s head. His mate arches to help, but Owen, admiring the unconsciously sinuous way Zach rubs against him with the movement, tangles Zach’s arms in the fabric, trapping the limbs above his head.

 

Zach’s kitten glower when he realises he can’t move his hands is adorable, and Owen takes a moment to kiss that pretty, pouting mouth. “Now you just stay right there, my pretty eighteen,” he says. “Got you right where I want you."

 

“Is that so?” Zach asks, arching up underneath him, wriggling around a bit so he can get his feet flat on the bed. “Well maybe this isn’t where I want to be."

 

Owen goes still. “Zach?"

 

Zach _moves_ , surging up underneath him, and Owen, still off-balance from the thought that Zach wasn’t as into it as Owen imagined, topples to the side, until he’s flat on his back and Zach is freeing his arms from the twisted-up henley.

 

“Silly alpha,” Zach says, leaning over to drop a chaste kiss on Owen’s mouth before scrambling off the bed. “‘Course I want you,” he says, matter-of-fact, shucking his jeans and underwear in one movement. 

 

Reassured somewhat, Owen watches, transfixed, as his little omega slides back onto the bed, swings a leg over Owen’s hips and eases his naked self down, heat and weight pressing against where Owen’s dick is fat and trapped in his jeans.

 

“This is where I want to be,” Zach says, smug, flicking his hair out of his eyes. He tugs at the hem of Owen’s shirt. “Off,” he commands, and Owen obeys, amused and surprised by his little mate’s sudden taking charge.

 

“Now,” Zach says, once Owen’s thrown his shirt aside, “you’re going to put your arms above your head and leave them there, and be nice and still for me."

 

“Oh, I am?"

 

Zach fixes him with a _look_. “Yes,” he says firmly, raking blunt nails down Owen’s stomach, making him shiver. “You are. If you move, I’ll stop.” He wriggles his ass down, and the shifting pressure makes Owen moan.

 

“Keeping my hands above my head,” he says, tucking them underneath the pillow so he can curl his fingers against something, stop himself from reaching out and touching.

 

“Good,” Zach says, and leans forward, planting a confident hand on Owen’s chest, raising himself up on his knees while the hand not currently supporting himself reaches down -

 

Zach’s eyelids flutter closed, a soft little sigh escaping his lips as he teases his hole with two fingers. And he is just teasing - Owen can see most of those two fingers between his legs watches his boy's cock twitch and rise with each brush of gentle fingers. The scent of Zach’s slick rises, and Zach opens his eyes and grins down at Owen as his nostrils flare, that inviting, fertile, _mated_  scent, and Owen can only imagine the sight of Zach’s pretty little cunt opening around his fingers, slick muscle fluttering, wanting more -

 

Owen groans. His dick is almost painful in his jeans now, a constant throb, so close to Zach’s hole but so far away still.

 

There’s a series of invitingly wet sounds as Zach starts to fuck himself with his own fingers, his other hand curling at the feeling, blunt nails digging into Owen’s chest, and he watches, captivated, as his shy young mate mewls at the feeling of two - no, three now - of his own fingers inside his cunt. Abruptly, Zach pulls his fingers out, dripping slick onto Owen’s belly.

 

“They’re not wet enough,” he lies, raising his hand to Owen’s mouth. “Lick."

 

Owen takes the fingers in greedily, moaning at the taste of his mate, the only omega he’ll ever taste like this again, pheromones bursting across his tongue and making his hips arch up.

 

Zach tuts at him, and takes his fingers back. “Naughty,” he says. “I told you to be still."

 

Owen chases the fingers with his tongue until they’re out of reach. He must look ridiculous, but he’s not above begging. “Give them back, baby, please.” He wasn’t done.

 

“Nope,” Zach says, shifting on his knees, moving further away. Owen makes a disappointed sound, but abruptly shuts his mouth when he sees that Zach is going for his fly.

 

“Good Alpha,” Zach purrs. “Now you stay nice and still for me, okay?"

 

“Staying still,” Owen promises, watching with rapt attention as Zach unbuttons the loose button fly of his comfy jeans with just a few tugs, spreading the two halves wide and baring Owen’s cock, letting it jut up against his own for a moment. Zach takes Owen’s dick in hand, ruts against it once, twice, before he rises up on his knees again, and moves into a better position. The head of Owen’s dick slides wet against Zach’s pretty ass, and the omega hums for a moment, one hand guiding Owen’s dick against his hole and holding it still, hips shifting back and forth as he gets it nice and wet, slick transferring with every kiss of sensitive skin.

 

“Please, baby,” Owen says, arms going tense as he fights to keep still, to not just pull his mate down onto his cock. This is Zach’s show, and Owen _will_ behave himself.

 

“Well,” Zach sighs, mock exasperated, “I guess since you said _please-_ "

 

He fucks himself down on Owen’s cock, one slow, sweet slide until he’s resting on Owen’s hips, alpha balls flush against his ass and cunt full of his mate’s dick. “Mmm,” Zach says, satisfied, clenching idly around Owen’s dick, casually driving his alpha _insane_ , looking like every wet dream Owen had in this bed as a teenager.

 

Owen can only watch as Zach reaches up to tease at his own nipples, still slightly red and swollen from the attentions of Owen’s teeth. His mouth waters suddenly, watching Zach rise and fall on his dick, cupping those little tits, still mostly flat with only the promise of the small handfuls they’ll be when he’s pupped - Zach frowns, then casually reaches back to where his hole is stretched around fat alpha dick, collecting slick on two fingers and spreading it over his nipples, making them nice and wet.

 

“Oh, bring them here, baby, please,” Owen begs. Zach considers his offer for a moment, lost in rocking himself to pleasure on his alpha’s cock.

 

“Mmkay,” he finally allows, eyes at half-mast, movements gone slow with satisfaction and pleasure. He lowers himself onto his hands, bringing his tempting nipples in reach of Owen’s straining mouth. He’s just tall enough that if Owen props the pillow up on his hands, he can close his mouth around one nipple and suck.

 

Zach moans, his cunt tightening around Owen’s dick and making him crosseyed with pleasure. Zach, needy and demanding, tugs one of Owen’s hands out from under the pillow and guides it to his other nipple. Owen takes the hint and closes his fingers around sensitive flesh, mimicking the sucking motion of his mouth as Zach rocks up and down on his dick, back and forth between the two sensations.

 

“ _Alpha_ ,” Zach purrs. “So good. Love y’r mouth on my tits.” He moans as Owen sucks harder at the words. “Swap,” he says, one hand coming up to shift Owen’s mouth to the other nipple. He doesn’t protest when Owen’s other hand comes into play, only mewls when Owen rakes blunt fingernails over his suddenly lonely nipple. Every time Owen teases with his teeth or firm tugs, Zach clenches up around him, so Owen does it often, feeling his knot start to swell at the base of his dick. Zach feels it too, if the way he suddenly starts to slam himself down harder is any indication, the start of Owen’s knot sucked into his omega’s greedy little cunt, the slick muscle hesitant to give it up when Zach rocks upward again.

 

Zach guides Owen’s free hand to his dick, slick with precome and straining against his belly. Owen is being used solely for his omega’s pleasure, mouth and hands and cock all working to bring his mate to orgasm on his childhood bed on Christmas day, and there’s nowhere he’d rather be. Owen jacks the dick in his hand hard and fast, and soon Zach slams himself down one final time, hole clenching around Owen’s knot as the omega comes, wetness spurting between them, and Owen gives himself up to the feeling of a cunt locking around his knot, milking his release out of him. He moans, hips arching up, hands coming to steady his omega’s hips as he twitches up into Zach.

 

“Good Alpha,” Zach says smugly, patting Owen on the chest, cunt still working at Owen’s knot. He looks obscene, flushed with pleasure, belly damp with his own come, chest slick from Owen’s mouth, those gorgeous nipples red and swollen.

 

“I like it when you suck on my tits,” he says, idly playing with a nipple. He’s watching Owen’s reaction closely, so the alpha makes sure to show just how much he likes it too.

 

“Maybe you could do it more often,” he says, voice light and casual. “I think I’d like that. If you suckled at me, made me all sensitive and sore, so every time something brushed against my chest, I’d think of you.” Perched on Owen’s knot, gorgeous and sated and confident, Owen wants to give his little mate the world. “Maybe I’ll be one of those omegas who milks up outside of pregnancy,” he says, and Owen moans. It’s too much, his little mate is _too perfect_ , gorgeous and clever and sweet and confident and now _he wants his little tits to milk up so Owen can nurse on them_.

 

“Yes,” Owen says. “Fuck yes, baby, please. I’d love that."

 

“Good,” Zach says, and nods once, matter decided, before he folds himself down to lie flat against Owen’s chest, heedless of the mess between them, hole still twitching around Owen’s knot. He tucks his head under Owen’s chin, nuzzling in at his pulse point where the scent is strongest, and Owen can do nothing but wrap his little mate up in his arms and hold on.

 

“Best Christmas _ever_ ,” he says, and Zach laughs, presses a kiss to his chest.


End file.
